


Wishes Cannot Make My Bed

by celeste9



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst, Coming of Age, Dreams, F/M, Romance, Royalty, Telepathy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1679672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jess was a little girl, she wanted to be a princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes Cannot Make My Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamer_98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamer_98/gifts).



> Extremely belated happy birthday to dreamer_98! I hope you enjoy this, late as it may be. This fills a postage stamp for Trope Bingo, with the tropes 'au: fairy tale/myth', 'telepathy/mindmeld', 'rites of passage/coming of age', and 'marriage'.
> 
> References to Becker/Emily, Becker/Ryan, and Lester/OFC. References to abuse.

When Jess was a little girl, she wanted to be a princess.

She dreamed of living in a huge castle, with towers and gardens and a moat. She dreamed of wearing beautiful dresses and jewels at her throat and a crown on her head. She dreamed of balls and dancing and handsome princes.

Jess was an orphan. She didn’t remember her parents. She remembered only that her mother had been beautiful and kind and her father had been handsome and strong, and they had loved her more than anything else in the world.

But that might be only a story, too. Sometimes Jess thought that her parents were nothing more than a dream, and none of her memories were true.

She grew up in a house that was filled with other children like her, poor children with no one who wanted them. The woman who ran the house was cold and stern and Jess hated her.

“No running!” she would snap when Jess picked up her skirts to dash down the hall.

“Manners!” she would snap when Jess and the other children dared to talk during meals.

Jess spent more time scrubbing floors and dusting shelves than she did playing in the sunshine like normal children would. Or, at least, Jess thought that was what normal children got to do. Sometimes she would lean out the window, letting the breeze catch her hair, dreaming of splashing through streams and rolling in the grass.

Until the mistress came and slapped her for being idle.

One day, Jess thought. One day a prince would come, riding on his noble steed, and take Jess far, far away from here.

-

Her prince never came. Instead, Jess ran away.

The mistress noticed that Jess had grown into a young woman with a slim figure and fine features. The mistress liked to bring rich old men over for dinner, so they could leer at Jess and put their hands on her. Jess knew that after she was sent away, when the men lingered with the mistress behind closed doors, that they were haggling over her.

Jess knew that one day soon, the mistress would hear a price that she liked.

Jess ran away before that day could come.

She had nothing but the dress she was wearing, a threadbare old cloak, and a bread roll she snuck from dinner, but she knew she was leaving with her most precious possession all the same.

Her dignity.

-

The first time she saw Becker, Jess thought that he must be her prince come to life.

He was leading his horse along the path, a huge, black stallion with a starburst of white upon his chest. Becker himself was tall and dark-haired, dressed simply for riding, in breeches and boots, with a sword sheathed at his waist. He was easily the most handsome man Jess had ever seen, with hazel eyes and smooth skin and thick dark hair.

“Miss,” he said politely, nodding his head to her. “Are you in need of assistance?”

“No,” Jess said, gawking, certain she must look like a simpleton.

He smiled at her. “These woods aren’t the safest place for a young woman to be walking on her own. May I accompany you somewhere?”

“I don’t know where I’m going,” Jess blurted.

“Are you lost?”

“No, I… I just don’t know where I’m going, in particular.”

“Ah,” he said, as if Jess was making perfect sense. “Running away, I take it.”

“How did you know?”

“I know the look. I… I’m running away myself, you see.”

Jess gaped at him. “What on earth do you have to run away from?”

His smile turned sad. “You might be surprised. May I ask your name?”

“Jess.”

“Jess. That’s lovely. I’m… Well, you can call me Becker.”

Jess didn’t ask why he was hiding his true name. Everyone had a right to their secrets. “I would be… glad of your company, Becker.”

Becker gave the neck of his horse a gentle stroke. “Well, then. Let’s run away together.”

-

Becker didn’t speak much, but he was pleasant company all the same. He smiled when Jess chattered at him and he laughed sometimes, and he made her feel safe. She knew that with Becker’s strong presence at her side, no harm could ever come to her. Becker would never try to sell her off. If brigands came upon them on the road, Becker would fight them off bravely.

Jess wondered if perhaps Becker might let her hold his sword, if he might teach her how to swing it. She thought that… Jess knew that bad things happened even when you were good. Becker would not always be there. She thought she would like to be able to defend herself, if she had to.

Jess still dreamed of being a princess, but she knew that dreams did not always come true. The world was hard and cruel, and Jess knew that more every day.

-

The third day after Jess met Becker, they were found.

The man came riding up on a horse nearly as large as Becker’s. He was dressed all in black, with a sword, looking like a guard. There was a crest upon his raiment that might have been… Jess stared. She had only seen it a few times, but it reminded her of the crest of the royal family.

“Your Highness,” the man said. He dismounted and fell to one knee.

Jess stared at Becker.

Becker waved the man back to his feet. “Oh, get up, Ryan. You’ve found me. I suppose my uncle sent you.”

“He’s concerned about you.”

“Concerned about losing his heir, you mean.”

“You know that isn’t fair.”

Becker sighed. “I know. I just… Ryan.”

Ryan’s eyes were filled with more affection than seemed fitting for someone in his position. “I know, sire.”

“Are you…” Jess’ voice came out squeakier than she had intended. She swallowed and tried again. “Are you the prince?”

Becker’s expression was tired when he looked at her. “You’ve caught me.”

Jess bobbed an awkward curtsey. She had never learned how to do it properly. She was afraid to raise her eyes to look Becker in the face. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I had no idea. I wouldn’t have… Oh, dear. I’m not going to be in trouble, am I? I only--”

“Jess,” Becker - Prince Hilary - said, lightly touching her shoulder. “It’s all right. Please don’t be frightened. You’ve done nothing wrong. The fault lies with me, for being dishonest with you.”

“You said you were running away,” Jess said, still too squeaky, hesitantly looking at him.

“I was,” the prince said. His gaze was off in the distance. “And now I must return. Perhaps you might join me still.”

“Your Highness?”

“You said you had nowhere to go. Allow me to offer you a destination.”

When Jess was a little girl, she had dreamed of castles.

“All right,” she said.

-

The king was a widower, Jess knew. His wife had died young, leaving him childless and alone. He had never remarried, causing something of a scandal. Prince Hilary was his nephew, the son of the king’s elder sister, who had also died too young. The king had named Hilary his heir.

The castle was finer than Jess could ever have imagined. Her neck ached from tilting it back to peer up at the high towers, like the ones she had dreamed herself in as a child, gazing out the windows and waiting for her prince to come.

“It’s like a fairy tale,” she breathed.

“It’s quite real, I’m afraid,” Becker said, and spurred his horse faster.

Jess was sitting astride his horse as well, behind Becker, her arms tight around his waist and the creature powerful between her legs. Onyx, Becker called him. Jess had never ridden a horse before. She liked the feel of the wind in her hair and she wished Becker would let Onyx go faster.

She thought that she should be more interested in Becker than she was in his horse. He was a _prince,_ an actual prince, and he was taking her home to his castle. He was handsome and good and probably brave, and Jess liked him, she did.

But she didn’t think she wanted to marry him, not even if it would make her a princess.

Jess wasn’t sure what she wanted, any more.

She thought she might like to be free.

-

The king was kind. That was really what Jess noticed most about him.

Jess was sure that he must have hundreds of more important things to do, but he still saw her and thanked her for keeping his nephew company on his ‘excursion’, as he called it.

“It was Beck-- Prince Hilary, really, Your Majesty,” Jess told him, trying not to stutter in her nervousness. “He was good to help me.”

“Yes, he does like to play the hero when there are damsels around,” the king said, which made Becker roll his eyes.

“I’m not a damsel,” Jess protested, and then remembered whom she was speaking to. “Your Majesty. I beg your pardon.”

The king’s green eyes were dancing with amusement. “No, it’s me who must beg your forgiveness, my dear. Not a damsel indeed.”

Jess’ face felt warm. She wasn’t sure what she should say. She wondered if it was wrong that she thought the king was rather nice to look at, in his way. He looked better in person than the images she had seen.

“Hilary tells me you need somewhere to stay.”

“Oh, I can find somewhere, I--”

“Please.” The king waved a hand. “What good is a castle if its empty rooms aren’t given to those who have need of them? Please, stay as my guest.”

Jess thought she couldn’t exactly refuse the king, but then again, she didn’t think he would stop her if she did. She glanced towards Becker, who smiled at her encouragingly. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I accept your kind offer.”

“Good,” the king said. “A maid will show you to your room and help you get settled. Perhaps you might join my nephew and me for dinner tonight.”

“Your Majesty,” Jess said, and attempted her curtsey again.

-

The maid who led Jess to her bedchamber was called Abby. Jess felt uncomfortable, knowing that she should have been the maid leading guests around the castle. She was no lady.

When Jess was nervous, she talked too much. It was an unfortunate habit that the mistress had long tried to rid her of, with small success. So Jess chattered on at Abby through the halls, asking questions and generally embarrassing herself.

Eventually Abby said, a wry expression on her face, “You don’t have to make conversation, you know. Most don’t.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, it’s just… I don’t know what I’m doing here, you see. I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave. I had no idea that Beck-- that that was the prince when I met him. If I had, I surely wouldn’t have behaved like I did.”

“I expect that’s the reason you’re here.”

“Sorry?”

“You treated the prince as if he were just another person.” Abby stopped in front of a door, opening it and gesturing Jess inside. “Here we are.”

“Oh, goodness,” Jess breathed, turning in a circle as she gazed at what was to be her room. It was filled with light, the large window opened up to the sky, with the castle grounds spread out below. The bed was so enormous that Jess thought she could get lost in it, strewn with pillows and a beautifully woven blanket. Everything was big, actually, the wardrobe and the fireplace and the armchair.

Abby opened the wardrobe. “It’s empty at the moment, I’m afraid, but if you’d like to have a bath there will be something clean for you when you’ve finished. You’ll be fitted for new dresses, of course, but in the meantime the king has requested you be given some of the queen’s old wardrobe. The dresses will be a trifle large, no doubt, but I think they’ll suit.”

“Yes,” Jess said, dazed. The queen’s own wardrobe. She had scarcely dreamed of even touching anything half so fine.

“Would you like a bath, then?” Abby asked, her eyes amused.

“Please,” Jess said. She was certain it would be the most wonderful bath she had ever had. She felt like a princess already.

-

The more Jess saw of the king, the more she thought that he seemed sad. She wasn’t even sure that she could explain why, it was just a feeling she had. He smiled at her sometimes, small and sweet, but he never seemed to smile because he was genuinely happy. He was forever rushing around, talking to this lord or that advisor, solving crises and sitting in audience with the people of his kingdom.

Jess wondered when he ever had time for himself.

For her own part, Jess had nothing but time. She scarcely knew what to do with herself. In the house for orphans, Jess had never been without a task to do. Multiple tasks, usually, that left her frantically attempting to finish everything she was meant to do so she wouldn’t be slapped or kept from meals.

Now, Jess was given leave to wander about as she wished. She roamed the halls of the castle, luxuriating in the various rooms. There was a library with books from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, with comfortable chairs in an open area in the middle where Jess could curl up to look at pages and pages of glossy pictures. She had never learned how to read and she was afraid to say so, but she liked the pictures. There was a music room with a piano and a harp and a cello and instruments Jess couldn’t put name to, none of which she could play. Not that it stopped her trying, mind, plucking out notes and making the most appalling noise. There was a large hall for feasting and balls, and smaller rooms for entertaining guests, and a cosy morning room for after breakfast. Jess liked to visit the kitchens, always warm from the cooking fires and bustling with activity. The head cook always gave Jess little cakes and small loaves of bread, to fatten her up, as she said.

Outside was even better. The castle grounds were immense, beautiful gardens bleeding into the forest. Jess visited the stables sometimes, so that she might feed the horses apples, but mostly she liked to just walk. She liked the feel of the sun on her face and the smell of the flowers. Often she kicked off her shoes so she might walk barefoot, the grass tickling her feet and the dirt soft beneath her soles. She ran sometimes, even, her skirts flying about her.

“Hello, Jess.”

Jess spun around, her hair whipping around her head. She could feel a flush in her cheeks. Hastily attempting to fix her skirts, Jess then managed to drop her shoes. “Um. Your Majesty! I didn’t expect to see you! Not that you don’t have every right to be here, of course, you’re the king, and it’s your castle, and your garden, and--” Oh, dear. She needed to just stop.

The king was smiling at her though, probably because he thought she was mad and it was best to smile at mad people to keep them calm. Or else he was a bit mad himself. “The fresh air clears my head.”

“Yes. Of course. I can see how you might need that.”

“I apologise if I disturbed you. You did look to be enjoying yourself.”

Jess had been running around like a child. Or like a crazy person. And the king had seen her. She blushed again.

“I hope you are settling in well?”

“Yes! Yes, very much. I love it here. Everyone’s been so lovely to me. You especially, of course, Your Majesty. I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay.”

The king looked somewhat uncomfortable at Jess’ gratitude. “You brought Hilary back.”

“It wasn’t me who did that.”

“No, I suppose it wasn’t,” the king said, glancing away from Jess. “Captain Ryan always knows how best to... handle my nephew. But you have my thanks all the same.”

“I am glad to help,” Jess said, dipping into a half-curtsey, though she wasn’t at all sure what he was thanking her for. “I... It’s only that I have nowhere else to go, and I don’t wish to infringe upon your generosity.”

“You have no reason to fear, and you needn’t explain. We all have our tragedies, don’t we?” The king’s smile was small and not at all happy.

“Yes,” Jess said, for lack of anything else.

“I don’t suppose you and Hilary...” The king stopped, seeming as nervous as it was likely possible for him to seem. “Forgive me.”

Jess’ eyes grew wide. Did the king think... “I don’t believe your nephew cares for me in that way, Your Majesty.”

“No, I suppose you’re right,” he said, expression unreadable. “That would be too simple.”

Simple? Jess would have thought he would be relieved, not to need to worry about his nephew taking up with a commoner who was little more than a stranger.

“Well,” the king said, smoothing back his hair. “Doubtless some young man will be lucky enough to win your heart, Jess.” The way he looked at her was strange, but then he said, “I will take my leave of you, then,” and began walking back towards the castle.

-

“Why did you run away?” Jess asked Becker. She knew that she shouldn’t call him that, but she couldn’t seem to break herself of the habit and he never seemed to mind. She thought he didn’t mind being another person, even in a small way.

“I don’t want to be king,” Becker said.

“Why not?”

Becker looked like he was far away, though he was still sitting right beside her. “A king cannot do what he wishes to. He must only do what is asked of him, what is right for his people.”

“What would you wish for, Becker? What would you wish for, if you were not the king’s heir?”

When he spoke, Jess thought his voice was the saddest thing she had ever heard. “I would wish for love.”

He was looking towards the guard, Jess realised, the one who seemed to always be around. Ryan. She suddenly understood.

In the stories, the prince always married the princess because he loved her. Jess knew now that stories weren’t real.

“I would wish for that, too,” she said.

-

A ball was held at the castle. The dress Jess wore was the nicest to have been made for her, a lovely pale pink with a laced bodice and a long, flowing skirt. Jess didn’t feel like the poor orphan girl she was when she wore it; she felt like the princess she had always wanted to be.

Jess spent most of the evening on the outskirts. She knew no one but Becker and the king and she felt uncomfortable trying to fit in amongst the wealthy lords and ladies. She also had never learned how to dance.

Walking out onto the balcony, Jess breathed in the fresh, clean night air and looked up at the stars. She still found it hard to believe that she was here, that no one had asked her to leave, that no one had told her she should at the very least be earning her keep.

“I see that I am not the only one who has grown weary of the festivities.”

“Your Majesty,” Jess said, dropping into a curtsey. She was much better at them now.

“You look beautiful,” the king said, moving to stand beside her.

Jess was glad the dress was hers, and not the queen’s. She was glad the king could look at her and see _her,_ not his long dead wife. She was glad to spare him the pain but she was glad also for herself, and she didn’t know where that thought had come from.

“I have always disliked these sorts of things, though I’m told they are necessary. Hilary may hate them even more than I do, but he suffers stoically. He hasn’t tried to escape tonight even once. He will make a good king when I am gone.”

“May that day be a long time coming,” Jess said. Even the thought of the king not being there made her want to cry.

The king seemed surprised. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, because... because the people are fond of you,” she said, feeling silly. “I know you are a great king.”

This was a lie. Jess had had little cause or opportunity to know of what went on beyond the small bubble in which she had grown up. She thought it must be true, though, for why else would he have gone to so much trouble on her account, if he were not good, and why else would Becker love him so?

“I fear not everyone would agree with that,” was the king’s reply. “But I have tried to be fair.”

“You can’t please everyone.”

“No. I must confess that I have never tried to. I have tried to do what I believe is right rather than what will please the largest number of people.” The king wasn’t quite smiling, but his eyes were soft. “You, though, Jess, you must please everyone you meet without even having to try.”

“No, I don’t,” Jess said, thinking of the mistress.

“Then whoever you left behind was a fool. Now, I am afraid I must return to the lion’s den. Will you accompany me? Moral support?”

Jess didn’t know what she had done to receive such favour, but the king was offering his arm and she smiled when she took it.

-

A princess from a neighbouring kingdom came to visit. Her name was Emily and she was stunningly beautiful, her hair a cascade of dark brown curls. Jess thought she was half in love herself.

But of course Princess Emily wasn’t there for Jess. She was there for Becker.

“The king hopes to seal an alliance through the marriage of his nephew to Princess Emily,” Abby told Jess.

“But Beck-- Prince Hilary doesn’t love her.”

“No,” Abby said. “He doesn’t. But I don’t think that matters.”

Jess watched Becker and Princess Emily return from a ride together, side by side, Becker on Onyx and Emily on a gorgeous silver mare. They looked as if they had stepped straight out of an illustration in a fairy tale.

Jess watched Becker kiss Princess Emily’s hand when she left. They bid their farewells courteously. They smiled at each other, lovely smiles, though neither reached their eyes.

“Will you marry Princess Emily?” Jess asked Becker later.

“Perhaps.”

“But you don’t love her.” This seemed so important to Jess that she couldn’t stop saying it.

“No. I don’t love her and she doesn’t love me, but she is good and kind and marriages have been made from less.”

This made Jess feel sadder than anything, but she kept her silence.

-

Jess’ dreams had always been a means for escape. She had thought that if only she were a princess, her life would be better. She would be someone special, someone with possibilities open for her, with the whole world at her feet.

She knew now that she had been silly. Life for everyone, even princesses, came with its own struggles and challenges. Being the queen hadn’t stopped the king’s wife from dying too young, leaving him alone. Being the prince didn’t mean Becker could do the things he wanted or be with the person he loved. Princess Emily didn’t have the opportunity to choose her own husband. Being a princess didn’t mean Jess would be happy.

In the centre of one of the castle gardens there was a beautiful stone fountain. Jess knew that if you wished by a fountain, it was supposed to come true. She didn’t know if magic was real, but she thought it was worth trying.

It took her a long time to decide what to wish for. She thought maybe she would wish for someone else. She could wish for Becker to find happiness. She could wish for the king.

But she didn’t. In the end, Jess sat at dusk, in the waning sunlight, trailing her fingertips in the cool water. She said, “I wish for my path to become clear to me.”

Nothing happened. Jess didn’t feel any different. She didn’t suddenly know what she should do.

Maybe magic wasn’t real after all, just like dreams.

-

Jess had fallen into something of a routine with the king. They would meet on the grounds and go for a walk together, sometimes chatting and sometimes going along in amiable silence. Jess found the king had a calming presence. Everything about him was... understated, and still.

She thought he had the perfect temperament for a king. He wasn’t prone to excitability or rash decisions. She wondered sometimes if there was anything that could shock him.

Once he took her hand, to guide her over a stream. As their hands touched, the strangest thing happened. Suddenly images burst into Jess’ mind, a young woman laughing, smiling, reaching out. And then herself. Jess saw herself, as if she was looking in a mirror, except she never looked quite like this when she saw herself.

She was seeing herself as someone else saw her, through their eyes. The king. Through the king’s eyes.

Jess drew her hand back and the images vanished. She stood blinking in surprise at the king.

He looked as startled as Jess felt. “I…” he tried, and stopped. “Terribly sorry,” he said, and left her standing there on her own.

Apparently he could be shocked.

-

For the remainder of the day, Jess kept to herself. She didn’t understand what had happened. Had she been seeing what was in the king’s head? Had he seen what was in hers?

She spent a restless night, tossing and turning in bed, unable to settle. Her thoughts raced.

In the morning, she found Abby.“Can I... Can I try something?” Jess laid her hand on Abby’s wrist, at the point where her sleeve ended.

Nothing.

“Um...” Abby said. “Is something supposed to happen?”

“No, never mind.” Jess pulled away. “I’m sorry, it was silly.”

Maybe she was going mad. Maybe they would have to lock her away, for her own safety and for the safety of others. Maybe -

Jess nearly walked straight into the king. “Oh, goodness,” she said.

He looked as though he wanted to touch her, to take her by the shoulders, but he stopped, bringing his hands back to his sides. “I must apologise for my behaviour yesterday,” the king said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s all right,” Jess said. “No harm done, right?” She tried smiling.

“Quite.”

“I... I think perhaps I had been in the sun too long.”

“Perhaps. Have you been in the sun today as well? You look flushed.”

“Do I?” Jess raised a hand to her cheek and blushed more.

As the king only stood there looking at her, Jess suddenly had to know. She had to know if she had imagined the events of the previous day, or if it had been some crazy fluke. She had to know if her connection with the king was real. She reached out and touched the king’s hand.

_Do you know how beautiful you are? When you first stood before me, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. If only I were as young as Hilary, then perhaps you might... But then, I was never as handsome as my nephew._

Jess drew back. She stared at the king. “I think you’re handsome,” she said.

“Jess,” the king said, and stopped.

“I wish that I were the sort of woman who could stand by your side,” Jess said, and fled.

-

“My uncle,” Becker said. “He… cares for you.”

“He has been kind to me,” Jess said, feeling her heart fluttering in her chest.

“He never took another wife, though he was begged to, though he had offers, though he could have sealed alliances. He said he… He said he could never take another wife after losing the only light there had ever been.”

Jess’ mouth felt dry. She licked her lips. “That’s very romantic.”

Becker’s mouth quirked. “My uncle has his moments. He was lucky. He married for his kingdom, but he married for love as well.”

“She must have been special.”

“Yes, she was.”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this.”

Becker gazed down at her. “Yes, you do.”

Jess looked away, biting her lip.

“You could give him--”

“Stop it,” Jess said, turning back to Becker. “Stop it. You know I can’t. I’m a poor common girl with nothing to offer a king.”

“No,” Becker said, his voice heavy with meaning. “You offer him everything. You offer your heart.”

“I offer my youth,” Jess said bitterly and unkindly. “I offer him the possibility of children, so that he might have an heir, so that you might be passed over. Isn’t that what you want?”

Becker looked as though she’d slapped him. “Is that how you see me? You think I ask for myself?”

“You told me what you would wish for.”

“I love my uncle,” Becker said, and now it was Jess’ turn to feel as though she’d been slapped. “I would become king a hundred times over if that is what would make him happy. I thought that you loved him, as well. Perhaps I was wrong.”

When he walked away, Jess remained. She felt ashamed.

“You were not wrong,” she whispered into the silence.

-

“Tell me of your wife,” Jess said, as she sat in the grass with the king. She thought it should have seemed wrong, somehow, for him to sit in the dirt with her, but it didn’t. He looked younger, sitting with his hands clasped around his knees, the breeze ruffling his brown hair.

“I loved her,” the king answered simply. “The marriage was arranged, but I loved her. I’d loved her since she was a girl.”

“Like a fairy tale,” Jess murmured.

He smiled gently. “No, not like that. Fairy tales are nothing but stories. Our love was real.”

Jess felt like a hand was squeezing around her heart. “But she died.”

“Yes. She died, and she took my heart with her.”

“It’s gone, then? Your heart?”

The king’s gaze washed over her. “I thought so. But now I think… You remind me of her,” he said softly. “Not… It isn’t that you are like her, or that you look like her, you… You remind me of the way I used to feel when I was with her. You make me feel like I could be happy again.”

Jess didn’t know what to say, so she touched her fingertips to the king’s cheek, briefly, willing him to understand what she didn’t know how to say.

The king swallowed, looking deeply into Jess’ eyes. “You would…”

“I would want you to be happy,” Jess said.

“And I…”

“You would make me happy, too, James.”

Jess smiled at the king and thought that perhaps there was a bit of magic in the world, after all.

-

Jess married the king in summer, in bright sunshine. She dressed in white, with flowers in her hair. They stood before a crowd of nobles, lords and ladies of the kingdom. There were pretty songs, and pretty words, and when it was over they stood on the balcony and waved to the people below as they clapped and cheered. There was music and dancing and laughing; there was a feast and drinking and the most delicious cake Jess had ever tasted.

All of this happened, but what Jess would remember was the king. She would remember how he smiled at her, and she would remember how he held her hands in his, and she would remember the touch of his lips to his hers.

She would remember that this was the day the king became hers, and she became his. She would remember that this was the day her dream came true, the dream she had dreamed her whole life.

This was the day she found freedom, and happiness, and love.

-

When Jess was a little girl, she wanted to be a princess.

Jess never became a princess.

She became a queen.

**_End_ **


End file.
